


Paradise Lost, Part I

by ginamc



Series: Star Trek: NX-01 (A Virtual Series) [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2190333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginamc/pseuds/ginamc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 5, Episode 1</p><p>Trip and T'Pol run into trouble on a would-be R & R trip. Discover who is behind their kidnapping. Can Archer and the crew find them before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise Lost, Part I

**LUNAR COLONY FACILITY—CHAMBER ROOM I**

**JANUARY 23RD, 2155—1723 HOURS**

A group of men stopped their work as the sound of approaching footsteps reached their ears.

A shadow appeared on one of the walls, shrinking as its owner drew closer. A few moments later, a tall, thin man rounded the corner. He noticed a group of men weren’t working. His hand dropped threateningly to the weapon on his belt and his eyes narrowed.

The men turned away immediately and resumed their repairs. He strode past the men and turned left, following another corridor. He reached the end of the hall and pressed his thumb to the button on the other side of the door.

“Enter,” a gruff voice called.

The man stepped forward and the doors parted, granting him entrance. He halted in front of a desk. “We’ve found them, sir,” the man said.

The man behind the desk looked up with a smirk of approval. “Very good. When will your men be ready to move?”

“We simply await your command,” the man replied.

The other man nodded. “We’ll strike tomorrow, then. They won’t be expecting it. Tell your men.”

The man nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The man then exited the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

 _Vengeance at last_ , the other man thought, his smirk widening.

***

**_ENTERPRISE_ —ENGINEERING **

**JANUARY 23RD, 2155—1802 HOURS**

Engineering bustled with activity as crewman rushed about the large room completing minor repairs on damaged systems. Trip stood at the center of the activity, shouting orders to his staff.

“Hey, Anna, are you almost done replacing those circuits in Junction D-3?” he called.

“Yeah, boss,” Hess shouted back.

Trip nodded in satisfaction. “Great. After you’re done with that, I need you to take a look at the capacitors in Section A-6.”

Hess nodded and put the finishing touches on Junction D-3 before moving on to the next task.

“You’re still here?” a voice shouted behind him.

Trip turned to find Reed behind him, his brows furrowed in concern. Trip grunted in annoyance. Apparently, Reed wouldn't be ignored.

He sighed. “Yeah, Malcolm, I’m still here.”

Reed shook his head disapprovingly. “At this rate, you’re going to be too worn out to enjoy your shore leave tomorrow.”

Trip’s eyes narrowed in agitation. “If I need to sacrifice a good night’s sleep to get Enterprise in top shape, then so be it. I can’t go on a vacation knowing that I didn’t fix her when I had the time,” he drawled.

Reed frowned. “All of this is just busy work, Trip.” He paused. “What is all of this really about? Is this about T’Pol? About Elizabeth?”

“I’m trying to do my job, Lieutenant. That’s all. Repairing this ship is my job,” Trip growled.

Reed raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you being so defensive?”

“I’m not,” Trip bit out angrily.

Reed sighed. “I know it’s hard, Trip—losing someone you care for. But it’s not healthy to keep all of that pain inside. You need to talk to SOMEONE—maybe Commander T’Pol. I’m sure that she would understand better than anyone what you’re—”

“Let it go,” Trip snarled.

Reed raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t bite my head off! I’m only trying to help.”

Trip’s nostrils flared. “I said let it go.”

Reed shook his head and strode toward the doors. Halfway there, he looked back at his friend one last time before sighing in defeat. The doors opened and he stepped through them, the doors then swishing closed behind him.

***

**_ENTERPRISE_ —LAUNCH BAY **

**JANUARY 24TH, 2155—1032 HOURS**

Echoes of conversion filled the launch bay as excited crewmembers discussed their plans for shore leave. The moment Trip entered the launch bay, however, everyone fell silent. The dark cloud hanging over his head seemed to follow him wherever he went.

“Why I had to be in the first group, I’ll never understand,” Trip groused.

Trip strode angrily past Reed and Hoshi without so much as a ‘hello’. The two exchanged significant glances.

“What’s the matter with him?” Hoshi asked, her features etched with concern.

Reed rolled his eyes and sighed. “The usual.”

Hoshi’s frown deepened. “He still blames himself?”

Reed shook his head mockingly. “You know how he is. When misfortune befalls him, he’ll chew it until his jaw falls off.”

“He’s still avoiding her, then?” Hoshi asked.

Reed nodded and paused. “Well, it’s more that they’re avoiding one another.”

“Maybe shore leave will stir things up a little between them,” Hoshi observed.

Reed snorted. “They’ll be at each other’s throats the moment their feet touch solid ground.”

Hoshi smirked, extending her hand. “I’ll take that bet. Loser scrubs the entire Armory with a toothbrush.”

Reed chuckled, grasping her extended hand. “You have yourself a wager.”

Archer grinned wryly. “All right, children. The shuttle’s ready. We’d better get moving.”

One by one, they boarded the shuttle with Trip muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a prayer. Once they were all strapped in, Travis began checking the engine controls to be sure everything was functioning. 

“Sato to Bridge. Shuttlepod One ready for departure. Requesting permission to launch.”

_“Permission granted. Good luck.”_

Trip paused. “Travis, take it easy on the…” Trip began.

The opening of the Launch Bay doors and the sudden drop halted the warning he’d been about to give. He stiffened in surprise, his grip on the armrest tightening as the momentary fall caused his stomach to drop to his ankles. His tension eased when Travis leveled off and began gradually descending toward the planet’s surface.

“Drop,” he finished softly.

“See, Trip? Nothing to it,” Archer said, giving his friend a slap on the back.

“You look ill, Commander,” Phlox pointed out.

“My stomach’s still down around my ankles, Doc. I’ll be fine once we’re on the ground.”

Reed turned to Trip, commenting in a low voice, “Surely you aren’t going to sit in your room for three days and sleep.”

“Actually, I was going to explore nature a bit,” Trip groused. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Reed sighed. “No. No problem.”

Archer looked over to find that Porthos had made himself quite comfortable at T'Pol's feet, even going so far as to sniff her leg. Recalling T’Pol’s delicate sense of smell, he asked, “Are you sure Porthos isn’t bothering you, T’Pol? I can hold him if you’d like.”

“I’m fine. He seems comfortable where he is,” T’Pol countered, seemingly not bothered in the least by the canine’s presence.

Archer chuckled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were developing a soft spot for him.” “When pigs fly,” Trip muttered.

“All right. Hold on. This is going be a bit bumpy,” Mayweather warned.

Hoshi checked the readouts on her panel. “Ladies and gentleman, please be sure that your seatbelts are fastened securely and that your trays are locked and in the upright position.” She smirked. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

The comment made Trip chuckle. “You’ve watched _The Flight Attendant_ one too many times, Hosh.”

Mayweather gazed intently at the controls, focused on keeping the pod steady. “We’re entering the atmosphere.”

Trip stiffened as he felt the shuttlepod beginning to rock. He dug his fingers into the fabric of the seat as they descended, occasionally feeling a plummeting sensation in his stomach.

“We’re at 3500 kilometers and closing. All systems reporting nominal. 2000 kilometers….1500 kilometers…,” droned Travis.

***

**RISA—FOREST CLEARING**

**JANUARY 24TH, 2155—1041 HOURS**

A few moments later, the shuttlepod made a gentle landing at the designated landing coordinates. Trip’s relieved sigh was clearly audible in the crowded cabin. Archer stood and moved toward the back doors, swiftly opening them. After the exits had been unsealed, they all stared out at the sunny, green landscape of Risa’s rainforest.

“Well, we didn’t come all this way just to look at it. Let’s get moving, shall we?”

The captain exited the shuttle with the end of Porthos’s leash in one hand and his bag in the other. T’Pol watched him go with one brow raised high.

“The Captain seems eager to enjoy the pleasures that this planet has to offer.”

Trip chuckled. “I’d say he deserves it.”

Reed grinned and nudged Trip with his elbow. “So Trip—what do you say we go rest up before we hit the clubs tonight? Which dance club first, I wonder? I personally would like to try that new one in the central plaza. I’ve heard the women there can do the most amazing things with their bodies—”

Trip paused. “Actually, Mal, I think I’m going to go for a hike.”

Reed’s grinned widened. “Brilliant idea! That’ll clear your head.” Reed paused. “Why don’t you take Commander T’Pol with you?”

“I—” Trip stuttered. T’Pol nodded.

“An agreeable suggestion, Lieutenant.” She then turned to Trip. “Do you mind if I accompany you, Commander?”

“But I—” he stuttered. Seeing the determination in Reed’s features, he sighed in defeat. “All right.”

As Trip moves past Reed, he growls into Reed’s ear, “I’ll deal with you later.”

“Don’t wander too far. It’s easy to get lost here,” Archer warned.

“Don’t worry, Cap’n. We’ll be back before dark.”

***

**RISA—EAST FOREST**

**JANUARY 24TH, 2155—1044 HOURS**

As they entered the forest of trees, T’Pol paused a moment, gazing at their surroundings. She hadn’t experienced the full aesthetics of a natural environment in some time and was discovering that she found the subtle movements of the wind through the trees, the soft chirps of alien birds, and the gentle rustling of the trees to be oddly soothing.

“Did you have a particular location in mind?” she queried.

He nodded. “There’s a village about six kilometers in. One of the Risans was telling me about it during my last stay here. She said that the village natives are the only people left on Risa that haven’t been affected by modern technology.”

T’Pol arched an eyebrow. “Interesting." She paused. "You seem oddly enthralled by the particulars of this society’s culture."

He frowned, slightly offended. “Hey, I appreciate culture just as much as the next guy. Just because it isn’t my profession of choice doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy learning about how the other half lives.” He paused. “Maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll get to see some of their ceremonies.” He smiled wanly. “Think of this as a chance to expand your cultural horizons,” he added.

She inclined her head and allowed him to lead her toward the village. “Intriguing indeed.”

***

**_ENTERPRISE_ —BRIDGE **

**JANUARY 24TH, 2155—1120 HOURS**

Lieutenant Joseph Decker shifted slightly in the Captain’s chair, turning occasionally to watch the other members of the bridge crew. Ensign Garret Hawk sat at the helm, staring at the controls with glazed eyes. The only thing that the Ensign had done for the last hour and a half was to make a slight altitude correction or two.

Ensign Leah Wyatt looked just as bored as she sat at the Tactical station with droopy eyelids and stared at the empty screen. It appeared as though she hadn’t rested well the previous night.

Decker frowned, wondering what could possibly be keeping her awake. Returning his attention to the endless void of space on the screen before him, he let out a dejected sigh. Didn’t it just figure that his first time in the Captain’s chair would turn out to be nothing but routine? Without warning, he heard the alert from the tactical station, the loud noise startling Wyatt so much that she nearly fell out of her chair. Immediately, her fingers began grazing over the controls and she frowned as she read the screen.

“What is it, Wyatt?” Decker asked.

Wyatt paused, shaking her head. “I don’t know, sir. It was there one minute, but now it’s gone.”

Decker pinched the bridge of his nose. “Most likely a sensor anomaly.”

“Shouldn’t we look into it further, sir?” Hawk questioned. He frowned and furrowed his brow, turning to face the acting captain.

Decker turned toward the helm officer, rolling his eyes skyward. “What are the odds, Ensign, that it was anything more than a sensor anomaly?”

“Slim to none, sir. But we should still investigate further to be sure. We didn’t detect the Xyrillians in our wake three years ago until the ship’s systems started malfunctioning,” Hawk pointed out.

Wyatt nodded. “He’s right, sir. We really should check it out.”

Decker gazed at Hawk sternly. “Hold our current position, Ensign. No more arguments.”

“Aye, sir,” Hawk muttered in exasperation.

***

**RISA—TEMPASA CITY MARKETPLACE**

**JANUARY 24TH, 2155—1132 HOURS**

Reed gazed at the various carts set up around the square, each boasting a different product. There were meat stands, clothing stands, pottery stands, and even a jewelry stand. He paused at the latter, his gaze falling on a beautiful beaded necklace bearing a large, superbly cut emerald at its center. The color of the stone was magnificent, its pure elegance on display as the sunlight reflected off its surface with breath-taking splendor.

As though holding a fragile child, he removed the necklace from its place, holding it at various angles. The cut of the stone looked almost natural as though neither machine nor tool had touched it. Not even the naturally formed gems on Earth were as perfect as this stone.

“You want to buy this, yes?” he heard a slightly raspy female voice whisper.

He looked up to find a bronze-complexioned, dark-haired woman standing on the other side of the counter, her expression eager. She looked very human with the exception of the scarcely noticeable scars that covered the right side of her face. The scars marred her features, though not to a severe enough degree to hide the beauty that seemed to have been there once. A flush crept into Malcolm’s cheeks.

He replaced the necklace on the counter and shook his head.

“No, I…”

The woman smiled knowingly. “I see. Perhaps it would be for a young woman you have a romantic interest in?” She paused momentarily. “You are unsure if she returns your interest.”

The flush deepened. “Am I that easy to read?”

“The eyes are the windows to the soul…and yours speak the words you cannot say,” the woman replied, a slight smirk on her lips.

Reed cleared his throat. “Ahem. Thank you…I think.”

She laughed. “It is a compliment. May I ask your name?”

He paused. “Malcolm Reed.”

She inclined her head respectfully. “I am Ankita.”

Once again, he picked up the necklace and examined it. “Is this the stone’s natural cut?” he asked.

Ankita nodded. “It is. The stone was found by a miner. Either he did not realize its value or did not care. I paid no more than five tikara stones for it.”

Reed frowned. “I’m sorry. I’m not familiar with that particular currency.”

She paused. “That is perhaps one of your Earth credit chits.”

His eyes widened. “This must be worth at least 1200 credit chits,” he said, astounded.

A smirk crossed her lips. “A bargain, then. I will sell it to you for 1000 tikara stones.”

Reed hesitated, doing the arithmetic in his head. The moment he’d finished the calculations, the lieutenant’s gaze snapped back to her, his gray-blue eyes as wide as saucers. “That’s…that’s only 200 credit chits,” he stuttered. She nodded. “I couldn’t accept that. You could get a much better price from another buyer.”

She closed his hand around the stone and pushed it toward him, smiling. “It would more than make up for the remaining 5000 stones if I knew that this was being given in the name of love. Besides, by selling it to you for 1000 tikara stones, I am already making a profit of 995 tikara stones. That will be enough to feed my children for several weeks.”

He stared at her for several moments. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Somehow his words of gratitude didn’t seem quite adequate for the great deed she’d just done, but he found he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Treasure her, Malcolm Reed,” Ankita added.

He grinned. “I will. I promise,” he said, before counting out 200 chits and laying them on the counter.

With one last thank you to the woman, he tucked the gift carefully into his pocket and moved to catch up with the others.

***

**RISA—NEAR NATIVE VILLAGE—SOUTH RAINFOREST**

**JANUARY 24TH, 2155—1432 HOURS**

As they drew closer to the village, the echoes of humanoid voices and drums thundered in time with her heartbeat, the smell of burning wood now assaulting her sensitive olfactory nerves. Though she wasn’t able to determine the meanings of the phrases and sounds, she could hear the excitement, the contentment, and the primitive pleasure in the voices of those chanting them. She stopped and tugged Trip to a halt as well. He turned toward her, frowning. Her eyebrows arched.

“We will contaminate their culture if we’re seen,” she warned.

“I didn’t bring you along to tell me to stay away,” he grumbled. “Besides, they won’t see us if we hide in the bushes.

She hesitated only a moment before inclining her head. “We mustn’t be seen,” she repeated.

After they made sure the bushes didn’t contain any thorns, the two settled into them and sat down, quietly watching the festivities through the leaves. T’Pol observed Trip as he closely watched the ceremonies, his gaze intense and intrigued.

“This looks sorta like a dedication to the Gods. Earth Celtic Druids did something like this. They would perform ritual blood sacrifices on an altar and then offer sacrifice ta the Gods ta protect their crops and their children,” he whispered.

T’Pol noticed a native flora burning in a corner of the clearing. “It would appear that these humanoids don’t demonstrate the same thoughts concerning the sacrifice of sentient life,” T’Pol countered.

He shrugged, not looking away from the celebration. “Not all cultures do. Native Americans didn’t kill animals or people in sacrifice. They only killed animals for survival and when they did, they’d honor the animal’s spirit by usin’ every part of the critter right down to its intestines just so none of it rotted. Some of their spirits and Gods actually were animals like bears and beavers.” He paused for a moment, in thought. “Now the Aztecs, an ancient Central American culture, had a lot of blood sacrifice tied in with their culture. They’d cover the victims with blue chalk, take them ta the top of a step pyramid, lay them down on a stone slab, and cut out their hearts with a dull knife. After they’d raised the hearts ta the sun in worship of their Gods, they’d toss the bodies down the steps.”

T’Pol shuddered—almost imperceptibly— at the images evoked by his words and used the techniques that she had recently learned in her studies to prevent the images from reaching him through the bond. Thankfully, he didn’t notice her discomfort as he was far too engrossed in the ceremony that the natives were performing.

A young woman was then brought forth to stand next to an elder tribesman and a younger man with long, dark blonde hair and bright blue eyes. The woman’s eyes were an emerald green and her hair was a dark shade of brown. She was tall, slim, and fragile in appearance, while the man was broad-shouldered and strong.

“It would appear that your celebration of seasons theory was incorrect,” T’Pol observed, eyebrows arched, as the elderly man began to speak. “I believe this is the marriage ceremony you spoke of previously.”

“I wish I knew their language,” Trip said with a sigh.

T’Pol reached into her pocket and pulled out a little device with buttons and dials. “Perhaps the Universal Translator will be of some assistance,” she suggested.

As the elder spoke, she continued to adjust the translator until it at last locked on to the language. The two sat quietly, listening raptly as the words were translated for them. “…feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other. Now there will be no loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other,” the elder said.

Her gaze rested on the young man, who bore an illogical resemblance to Trip. His soft eyes were filled with emotion as he stared at the dark-haired woman, who seemed just as emotionally attached to him as he was to her. She watched the minor physical exchanges between the two, such as their interlaced fingers, the gentle way he brushed his knuckle over her cheek, and most especially, the way that she leaned into his tender touch. Ensign Sato had explained to her that these gestures signified affection and even love.

“Now you are two persons, but there is only one life before you. May beauty surround you both in the journey ahead and throughout the years you will share together. May happiness be your companion and your days as husband and wife be well and long upon the earth."

"Treat yourselves and each other with respect, and remind yourselves often of what brought you together. Give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness and kindness that your connection deserves. When frustration, difficulty and fear assail your relationship, as they threaten all relationships at one time or another, remember to focus on what is right between you, and not only on what seems wrong. In this way, you can ride out the storms when clouds hide the face of the sun in your lives -- remembering that, even if you lose sight of it for a moment, the sun is always there. And if each of you takes responsibility for the quality of your life together, it will be marked by abundance and delight. To signify your acceptance of this joining of your lives, you will mark one another with the ashes of the dawn lotus."

The young woman dipped her fingers into the cooled ashes and touched them to the man’s forehead, creating what T’Pol assumed to be a religious symbol. “With the ashes of this precious flower, I mark thee as mine until the Gods part us,” the woman said.

Dipping his fingers into the ashes as well, the man did the same. “With the ashes of this precious flower, I mark thee as mine until the Gods part us,” he said.

The older man smiled. “You have chosen a path not to be taken lightly. Remember these vows, for they are yours to obey until the Gods part you. May the Gods shine down upon you and bless you with many sons.”

The others surrounding them cried out in joy as the two brushed their lips together. The steady beating of the drum crescendoed through the mid-day air with such a sonorous tone that T’Pol’s ears began to ring.

“We should leave before we are noticed,” she shouted over the noise.

Trip nodded and then turned to look longingly at the celebration. “I kind of wish we could join them. I haven’t danced like that in years,” he said wistfully as he watched the free-spirited women dancing by the fire.

Her eyebrow shot up. “I have no doubt you will have other opportunities. Are there not night clubs in Tempasa City?”

Glancing at the dancers one last time, Trip sighed and followed T’Pol away from the camp.

***

**RISA—TEMPASA CITY—ALVASIAN DANCE CLUB**

**JANUARY 24TH, 2155—1332 HOURS**

Hoshi grabbed Reed’s hand, at last managing to pull him free from the mob of women whose attention he’d commanded from the moment he’d stepped in the door.

“Where’d he go?” one of the women shouted.

Hoshi put her hand on top of Reed’s head and pushed him to the ground. “I saw him! He went that way!” she shouted, pointing toward the door.

“Come on, girls!” another woman shouted. “He won’t get far!”

The women then rushed out the door screaming excitedly. Once they were gone and the door was closed, Reed stood up and brushed himself off.

“Thanks,” he said breathlessly.

Hoshi raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Do you get that much attention everywhere you go?

His face flushed. “Not everywhere,” he replied. She shook her head. “Dark-haired Brits must be the new trend on Risa this season,” she teased.

He frowned. “Bloody hell, you make me sound like some sort of fashion accessory,” he quipped in annoyance.

“Sorry,” she said softly, her cheeks pinkening.

Gazing at the door, he put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Well, with the way they were behaving, you just might not be that far off.”

***

**RISA—EDGE OF THE NORTH FOREST**

**JANUARY 25TH, 2155—1024 HOURS**

Suppressing a yawn, T’Pol hesitated at the outer edge of the woods. She’d awoken early for her meditation, but Trip had burst in just as she was about to insist that he join her for a little early morning hike.

“Come on,” Trip said, grabbing T’Pol’s wrist. “I want to show you something.”

The feeling of his cool fingers on her skin immediately shook the Vulcan out of her reverie. She stared down at his hand, which was now wrapped gently around her wrist, and furrowed her brow inquisitively. T’Pol moved her eyes up to meet his gaze.

Trip released his grip on her wrist, his fingers sliding to intertwine with hers.

“It’s okay, T’Pol. I’m not gonna bite you.”

His expression softened and he smiled tenderly, his eyes held on hers. She tightened the grip on his hand and gazed searchingly into his sky-blue eyes. This was a side of Trip that she hadn’t seen before. T’Pol began to wonder just how much of his multi-faceted personality he’d truly shown her and what other surprises might possibly be awaiting her.

She nodded, her silent message communicating to him that it was acceptable to proceed. She saw a smile flash across his lips before he turned to lead her in the direction that he desired. She felt a sudden wave of excitement that she knew was not her own. The feelings were obviously from Trip. She could sense his emotions through the bond.

***

**RISA—BURELLIAN FALLS**

**JANUARY 24TH, 2155—1124 HOURS**

The farther along they moved, the more she could sense Trip’s growing excitement. At last, T’Pol found herself standing next to him as the two gazed out on a waterfall-paradise.

“I know it’s not the Fire Plains on Vulcan, but it’s still a mighty pretty sight.”

T’Pol nodded. “Yes…it is,” she replied softly.

Her brow furrowed briefly, and Trip felt a pang of her discomfort.

He frowned. “Are you all right?”

She paused, taking a moment to deliberately steel her expression. “I was thinking of Elizabeth.”

It seemed as though images of her deceased child were nearly inescapable now. The memory of her daughter—their daughter—haunted her. A tense silence filled the air.

Trip broke the silence, finally, with something completely unexpected. “So, you want to go for a swim?” he asked innocently.

“Vulcans do not swim,” she replied with finality.

A teasing glint appeared in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how.”

T’Pol’s eyebrows shot up in response. “I most certainly am capable. I just simply do not wish to do so at the present time.”

Trip smirked. “What? Don’t ya like the water?”

Her eyebrows shot up even higher, as he knew perfectly well why she did not wish to swim. “We do not have the proper attire with us.”

“So? We can strip down to our skivvies then. It’s not like I haven’t seen you in them before, you know. And it’s not like you haven’t see me either….”

“It is illogical, Trip. We would be unable to obtain new clothing until we returned to the Shuttlepod.”

“Aww, come on, T’Pol. Loosen up a little.”

T’Pol paused. Before her experience aboard the Seleya and her past use of Trellium, she likely would not have had the struggle that she was having now. There would have been little difficulty involved with the removal of her clothing or of her entering the pool completely disrobed. Trip’s presence complicated things.

Memories of their encounter still entered her mind from time to time, though she was careful to control her reactions to them. It would not be wise to encourage further advances. That one night had irrevocably changed things between them. Another encounter might serve to give Trip an incorrect impression of her intentions. It would be illogical to allow him control in such matters.

Lost in thought, T’Pol hadn’t noticed that Trip was leading her steadily toward the water. By the time she realized his intentions, she was standing shoulder-deep in the water and spitting it from her mouth.

Trip clutched at his stomach, laughter bubbling from deep in his chest. “You see, now that wasn’t so tough, was it?”

“No,” T’Pol replied in a deadpan voice, extending a hand. “Now would you please assist me out of the water?”

Trip sighed in resignation. “All right,” he grumbled.

No sooner had he taken her hand when she’d pulled him into the water with her. He found himself standing right next to her just as drenched as she was.

“I should have seen that coming,” he muttered, pushing the hair out of his face.

“Yes, you should have. It was the only logical way to return your enthusiasm.”

Trip chuckled. “You’d better watch it, T’Pol, or you might just prove the Captain right.”

“I appreciate your concern. However, if I were you, I would be more apprehensive about my potential reception of your thoughts than of my propensity toward developing any of your mannerisms.”

“You can still read my thoughts through the bond? Even after all those techniques you showed me?”

“Perhaps our bond is stronger than I originally suspected.”

“Which means?”

“This is deeper than a mating bond.”Trip rolled his eyes. Sensing his frustration, she conceded. “Very well then. For your purposes, we will call it ‘making love’.”

Trip paused before striding back toward the trees. T’Pol followed.

Trip nodded. “So, you were saying?”

“I believe that the bond is likely similar to an early telsu bond.”

“Telsu?”

“Spouses.”

Trip frowned. “So what you’re saying is…”

“In a sense, we are married,” she interrupted.

The barely visible tension previously worn on her face seemed to suddenly be erased now that the issue was finally out in the open. Trip was quiet for a moment, trying to take all of this in. A wide range of emotions crossed over his features…shock, confusion, dismay…

“Is this ‘marriage’ just like a legal one?” he demanded in disbelief.

Any previous hint of pleasure T’Pol held in her expression dissolved instantly, replaced now by a frown. “I do not believe that it would be regarded as an official marriage…at least not until we have proceeded with the ceremony.”

Trip nodded and a silence fell between them. “We’d better head back. The Cap’n’ll be getting worried about us,” he mumbled.

T’Pol nodded in solemn agreement and the two of them made their way back toward the Shuttlepod. Through the bond, she could sense his anger. She quickly blocked him, putting her barriers up, and refusing to allow him to know just how well he was succeeding at causing her displeasure.

“This is why we both keep screwin’ things up, T’Pol. Ya refuse ta let me in,” he complained, apparently having sensed T’Pol’s attempts to shut him out. Trip sighed and stormed off into the forest. T’Pol followed close behind, trying to keep the tears from sliding down her cheeks.

***

**RISA—NORTH RAINFOREST**

**JANUARY 24TH, 2155—1221 HOURS**

The two walked in silence toward the landing field on a path back through the muggy, steaming jungle. Trip paused, in morose contemplation, lost in thought. He was a lab-rat to her, nothing more. She'd used him to satisfy her curiosity regarding Human sexuality. _Married._ He paused. What would a relationship with T'Pol even be like? He stopped in his tracks, startled by a noise.

“What was that?”

T’Pol turned to look behind him. “What was what, Trip?”

“Didn’t you hear that? Sounds like someone’s following us.”

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “You must be imagining things. I heard nothing.”

“The hell you didn’t,” Trip mumbled sullenly.

She could hear far better than he could and he had no doubt that she’d heard it, but was simply dismissing it. T’Pol paused, as if to say something, but thought better of it, and returned her gaze to the path in front of them. She’d come to the conclusion that it was best to not respond to Trip’s illogical behavior.

Suddenly, there was a loud expletive and something heavy landed on top of her, sending her to the ground.

“Damn! I’m sorry, T’Pol.”

Trip rolled off of her, screaming another expletive as he clutched his ankle.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, just peachy. What the hell does it look like?”

T’Pol reached out a hand, tenderly feeling his ankle.

Trip drew in a sharp breath. “Sonuvabitch!” he cursed.

“It appears to be fractured. We should get you back to the shuttlepod and splint it. Your ankle is beginning to swell. Can you stand?”

T’Pol’s voice was cool and her tone held no trace of the concern she was feeling over the level of Trip’s pain sent to her through the bond. She prepared herself mentally for the potential worsening of pain that any physical contact with Trip would likely bring. She extended an arm and offered him a hand. Trip waved it away, attempting to get up off the ground on his own. On the third try, he grimaced and crumpled to the ground, his sharp cries an indication of the price of his pride. T’Pol reached down, grabbing him by the arm, and pulled him sharply upward.

Trip let out a cry of pain. “Easy!” he protested.

He gave her an affronted look, hopping on one leg and rubbing his arm where she’d gripped it, his eyes now filled with puzzlement. T’Pol couldn’t help but wonder if he sensed her concern for him. She decided it would be best to repress any further hints of emotion.

“I apologize,” she said briskly. “Put your arm around my shoulders. I will assist you to the shuttlepod.”

Trip eyed her suspiciously for a moment, and then nodded, wrapping one arm around her small shoulders and sucking in a breath as they took their first few steps. “Damn. Just my luck,” he grimaced. “My first day planetside on shore leave and I twist my ankle.”

“Perhaps you should be more cautious in the future. There is a human saying that applies: ‘Look before you leap’,” replied T’Pol primly. “It would be advisable for you to take this into account in the future.”

Trip bit back a curse as his injured foot encountered a rock. His eyes cut to T’Pol angrily and then back to the path in front of them. She could sense his resentment. “Maybe there won’t be a next time,” he grumbled.

T’Pol winced inwardly. She had the distinct impression that he wasn’t talking about his ankle.

***

**RISA—OUTSIDE SHUTTLEPOD**

**JANUARY 24TH, 2155—1324 HOURS**

About an hour later, they reached the shuttlepod. T’Pol opened the hatch before leading Trip inside. Trip sat down in one of the seats while T’Pol retrieved a medical kit. “I’m afraid I don’t have the equipment to scan your injury,” T’Pol said. “We will have to return to Enterprise.”

He paused. “There are hospitals here on Risa. Couldn’t we just go to one of them?”

“Doctor Phlox has far more expertise in treating humans,” she retorted. “Besides, you should not walk any more than is necessary, given the seriousness of your injury.

He sighed. “Think my luck just went from bad to worse.”

“If you do not receive medical attention, your condition will likely worsen,” she replied, with a touch of concern.

“You make it sound like I’m dying.” T’Pol’s brows furrowed slightly. “All right. Let’s get this over with,” Trip sighed resignedly.

T’Pol nodded, picking up a communicator and flipping it open, holding her thumb to the button. “T’Pol to Archer.”

A moment later, a reply came through. _"Archer. Everything okay, T’Pol?"_

“Commander Tucker has sustained an injury that needs medical attention. I am returning him to Enterprise and the Doctor’s capable hands.”

_"What happened?"_

“I snagged my foot on a tree root, Cap’n, and twisted my ankle.”

Archer chuckled. _"Only you, Trip, could twist your ankle on a tree root."_

“Ha, ha, Jon. Hilarious,” Trip grumbled.

“Permission to return to Enterprise, sir?”

Archer chuckled. _"Permission granted, T’Pol. Good luck."_

Before Trip could say another word, T’Pol flipped the communicator closed. “Beginning pre-launch procedures.”

Trip opened his mouth to protest when suddenly he heard something behind them.

*

**INTRUDER POV**

A figure in green face paint dressed in foliage camouflage crouched beneath the underbrush at the edge of the clearing, watching the Vulcan on the comm with her captain. As she flipped her communicator closed, he signaled silently to the other two members of his team. They returned his gesture of readiness.

He stood then, revealing himself, and shot the human in the chest while his cohorts took care of the Vulcan. The three of them approached the limp bodies of their victims and stood over them for transport. He exchanged a satisfied grin with his green-painted leafy compatriots before tapping the comlink in his breast pocket. The entire group dematerialized without a trace.

TBC…


End file.
